


And I Am Nothing of a Builder

by lydiaire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I have never worked in construction, M/M, Rating May Change, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Burn, Warnings May Change, but not a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiaire/pseuds/lydiaire
Summary: In my list of possible fic ideas, this was "Lonely Stiles makes friends with the scary local weirdo (Derek)," and this is what happened.I don't own Teen WolfPlease do not repost this anywhere.Thank you :)
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 8





	1. With Broken Wrists I Climbed These Walls

**Author's Note:**

> In my list of possible fic ideas, this was "Lonely Stiles makes friends with the scary local weirdo (Derek)," and this is what happened.  
> I don't own Teen Wolf  
> Please do not repost this anywhere.  
> Thank you :)

Summer school. Fucking summer school. Stiles has to spend basically the whole summer break before their junior year alone because Scott has to take summer school. If Scott was planning on failing chemistry he could have at least told Stiles so they could take summer school together! Well, not really, Stiles is pretty sure he’d rather spend the summer alone then spend it in a room with Harris breathing over his shoulder and insulting him. Still. This should be the time for video game marathons and staying up till the early hours of the morning eating junk and watching movies and getting drunk in the preserve and trying to sneak into parties they weren’t invited to. 

  
Stiles can’t complain to Scott about any of this cause Scott arguably has the worse end of the stick, so he’s left to whine to his dad.

  
“And we were going to practice for lacrosse to try to make first line next year! Not that that will ever happen but all my plans are ruined now!” 

  
Sheriff Stilinski looked at his son, unimpressed. “I know it’s always just been you and Scott, but-”

  
“Yeah, dad, we are all the other needs.”

  
“-But, maybe this could be good for you. A chance to get out of your comfort zone, make some new friends even.”

  
“I don’t want any new friends. I’m happy with just Scott. He’s my brother, I don’t need anyone else,” Stiles said stubbornly.

  
John smiled despite himself, a friendship like his son’s was a rare thing, definitely to be treasured. But he has had worries it might be a bit codependent. More worrisome for him that Stiles seemed to need Scott just a bit more than Scott needed him. Stiles was always so picky about who he needed and cared for, but once he decided you were stuck with him for life.

  
“Really, you don’t want any other friends? Not even a certain Lydia Martin?” John asked, partially to fulfill his parental right to embarrass his child just a little about crushes, but also to keep tabs on Stiles’ life. He missed too much working the way he did.

  
Stiles’ face flushed, but he frowned, eyebrows drawn together looking almost defeated. “Lydia… I don’t think she’ll ever see me that way. I don’t know. I don’t want to give up.. But I heard she was seeing an older guy, and- and well I overheard her calling me a creep - I don’t want… I don’t want her to see me that way, don’t want to be that. I don’t know dad,” Stiles stammered out.

  
John winced. He probably could have reigned his son in more than he did. He knew that Stiles’ intentions were pure, or pure for a 16 year old boy at least, but Stiles’ way of showing love could be intense, especially if the feelings were not returned. He cleared his throat, “Well. Maybe if she just doesn’t return those feelings you need to move on. And know that she is missing out, but that it’s a choice she has to make for herself. Sometimes you can’t change someone's mind about you, and trying too hard just reinforces their feelings.” He clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and rubbed reassuringly, missing Claudia for the millionth time - they always thought she’d be the one to talk Stiles through relationships.

  
Stiles leaned into his dad’s touch, mind focused even more on his upcoming months of isolation.

After four straight days of not leaving the house, barely leaving his desk and laptop, Stiles was cruelly forced out of the house by his father.

  
“Just get some fresh air, get out of the house for a bit, staying cooped in like this is unhealthy. Go for a walk or a run, just go somewhere.”

  
“But-”

  
“Stiles, whatever Wikipedia page you were on can wait an hour. This will be good for you.”

  
Stiles grumbled but he pulled on some shorts and shoes. He got in his jeep and sat there for a moment. Where could he even go? With a put upon sigh for the benefit of his father - who was standing on the porch watching to make sure he left - he started the car and resolved to at least go walk around the preserve or something. Commune with nature or whatever bullshit his dad wanted him to do. With a sarcastic salute he backed out of the driveway and drove the direction of the Beacon Hills preserve. 

The preserve was quite pretty at least. With the amount of rain Northern California got it remained plenty green even in the summer. Stiles set off on a random trail, supposedly if he followed it it would eventually lead him back to the beginning where the jeep was parked, and hoped he at least managed to see something cool like a bear or a mountain lion, or maybe something less bite-y and carnivorous like a deer. 

  
The dappled light lit his path, the sun straining to penetrate the thick cover of leaves and branches as he made his way deeper and deeper into the preserve. Birds were chirping somewhere, but in a pleasant way, not the annoying incessant way, and there was a stream somewhere close. Stiles took a deep breath. He had to admit this was nice, even if it made him feel even more like a loner to be wandering around the woods alone. 

  
A mile or two in he came upon a clearing, as he got closer he stopped to look around and froze. The Hale house. He forgot it was out here, Stiles was just a kid when it burned down. His eyebrows rose when he noticed a car parked on the far side of the house, he couldn’t see what it was without getting closer, but it was something shiny and black. His eyes wandered over the rest of the house absently.

  
“Shit!” Stiles swore as he noticed a man staring, no not staring, glaring, at him from a second story window. He was so still Stiles started to rethink his belief in ghosts but the man shifted slightly, only to adjust his face into an even deeper somehow glare, accompanied with a scowl.

  
Despite what some may think, Stiles could take a hint and he promptly turned around and speed walked back up the trail he had followed down here. When he couldn’t see the clearing any longer he broke into a jog, ready to get back to his home and laptop. He definitely wasn’t scared or intimidated, ha, who would be unnerved by someone glaring like they were trying to kill him with their mind? It was unsettling though. Was someone squatting there? Why would you squat in the burnt husk of a building if you at least had a car?

Back home Stiles tried to distract himself from his encounter in the woods. He couldn’t stop wondering though, he was nothing if not curious, so that evening as he and his dad sat eating bowls of boxed mac n’ cheese he mentioned it.

  
“I, uh, went by the old Hale house when I was out today,” Stiles started.  
“You should stay away from it,” John said gruffly. “It can’t be structurally sound and we’ve already had to kick too many stupid kids out for trying to trespass there.”

  
“Why is it still standing if it’s so dangerous?” Stiles asked.

  
John shrugged. The Hales were important to the town. The county pitied Derek, the Hale boy who survived, so they’ve left it up to him to decide to do something about it. I guess he’s decided to leave it. I imagine if someone did get hurt there they might be forced to deal with it, but so far everyone just sort of ignores it out of respect.”

  
“I think I saw him there. Glaring at me through the window like a total creeper.”

  
“Well,” John said, “It is sort of rude to stare at someone when they’re in their own house.”

  
“I didn’t think anyone lived there, could live there,” Stiles said, defensive. 

  
“I’m sure Hale has his reasons. But don’t you go bothering him.” Stiles made a squawk of outrage. “Don’t give me that, I know you’re bored and I know how you get when you’re bored. That poor kids been through enough so you can leave him alone, okay?” John asked, eyebrows raised at Stiles pointedly.

  
“Ugh, fine. ‘Maybe you could meet new people,’ he says. ‘Don’t try to talk to the new person’ he says,” Stiles snarks. John let out a short laugh.

  
“Just,” he said, mussing Stiles’ hair fondly, “remember some people want to be left alone, okay kid?”

  
Stiles nodded absently. _No one wants to be alone,_ he thought. _Being alone sucks. Maybe I should go over again, just check things out, introduce myself maybe?_


	2. For the Warning Signs I've Completely Ignored

Stiles' heart pounded in his chest, nervous despite himself, as he stood at the trailhead leading to the Hale house. Again he asked himself, Why am I doing this? He took a deep breath, trying to steel his resolve. He didn't really know why he was going back there, his dad was probably right (ha never let him here that), Hale might want to be left alone. He might be projecting his own feelings of loneliness. But something inside of him felt like he had to go back. Call it curiosity, call it stubbornness, but he knew he couldn't let it go right yet.

With a curt nod to no one he made his way down the trail. Like yesterday it was a gorgeous day out, sun and birds and nature and shit. Stiles couldn't really focus on it. Out loud (What? It's not like anyone was around to hear him.) he practiced what he was going to say. 

"Hello, Mr. Hale - Mr. Hale? Should I call him Derek? He's only a few years older than me. But I also don't know him, is Derek too personal? Is it weird that I know his first name? No, probably everyone knows his name... Just Hale would be rude, so I guess Mr. Hale will have to do. Hello Mr. Hale, my name is Stiles Stilinski - last name? He probably knows my dad a little bit so would my last name help? Or make it worse... No, it'd be weird if some random kid with a weird name knocked on your door, right? I'm the sheriff's son, I'm just being a good citizen, checking on the people of the town for my dad. There's definitely nothing odd about what I'm doing-"

Stiles' rambling cut off when he realized he was at the clearing. His eyes darted to each window, but no dice. The car was still just visible on the other side of the house though, so Stiles figured he must be home. Clenching his fists and straightening his back he marched to the porch, only to hesitate when he saw the state of it. The wood was charred, chunks missing and the remaining pieces cracked and brittle looking. Well, the porch wasn't that high from the ground, so Stiles shrugged his shoulders and carefully stepped over the stairs, straight onto the safest looking part of the porch he could see. He walked carefully to the door, raising his hand to knock when it swung open.

Hale stood there impassively, eyebrows low above his eyes but not in anger. Oh my god, Stiles thought, he's hot!

Stiles stood there cartoonishly, mouth open in surprise, arm still raised to knock.

"M- Mr. Hale!" He stammered, "I- uh- I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! S-so welcome!" Stiles stood there, eyes slightly manic, as he tried to process what was happening and how he should react. Fight or flight? Oh who was he kidding, obviously it was flight.

Hale stood there silently, the only change of expression was the line between his brows. Was he confused? Or, oh god what if he's angry? Definitely flight then.

"Well I gotta go, I- it was nice meeting you!" Stiles shouted as he quickly backed off the porch, somehow luckily not falling through or tripping over something. He stumbled a bit over the stairs, but soon enough was speed walking (again) off the Hale property. He glanced back just before the house was out of sight, and Hale was still standing there, looking as though he still hadn't moved. 

Back at home, Stiles leans back in his desk chair, ignoring the protest as the chair creaks from the imbalance. He should probably just let it go, right? He's definitely humiliated himself enough for one summer. It'd probably be best for him to just put the Hale house and Derek Hale out of his mind. Go back to his original plans of wallowing. Oh. Yeah, maybe not a great looking option either. Stiles sat up suddenly in his chair. Besides, Stiles is a fixer. He fixes things. And people. Well maybe not so much the things, he's not terribly handy. And, well, maybe not so much the people either, but he tries. 

But he can try with Hale. No, Derek. Though he didn't know Derek was living in his family's burned down house, he had heard people in town talk about him before. Things like 'Oh that Hale boy! There's something not right about him! I know his family, his poor family, but still. Something just seems off with him.' 

He could probably use a little bit of human interaction.

The next morning had Stiles pulling out his mother's old cookbook. He gently brushed the dust that had accumulated off, though Stiles usually did the cooking, and enjoyed it even, he had left his mother's recipes untouched. It just felt too painful to see them. But, this book had her peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe, the best cookie recipe in the world. If anything could fix his terrible first and second impression it would be these. Besides... maybe it was time to bring these recipes back out, time to remember the good, remember her. He read over the recipe, reassured they had all the necessary ingredients.

Baking wasn't something that necessarily came naturally to Stiles. While he had no problem with the hands on portions, baking too often required inactive wait periods where he would get distracted by something else. After way too many burnt creations, he figured out a system using the alarms on his phone. Several alarms, in fact, to keep him reminded.

He pulled ingredients out of the pantry and fridge: flour, baking soda and powder, butter, sugar, eggs, peanut butter, oats, setting them all on the counter together. He glanced up when he heard his dad come down the stairs, dressed in his uniform.

"What's- Are you.. Is that your mom's cookbook?" John asked, surprised to see it down.

Stiles fiddled with the jar of peanut butter, opening it's lid halfway and closing it as he looked down. "Uh yeah, I just.. I wanted to make her peanut butter chocolate chip cookies."

John raised his brows, "Is there some sort of special occasion?"

"I am, um, going to take them to someone. As a gift." 

"Oh," John cleared his throat awkwardly, "I expect there will be some left for me?"

Stiles grinned, playing along with his dad. "Two. You can have two, and I expect you to have split them between two days. Do you know how much butter and sugar are in these things?"

John pretended to consider this for a moment, "Fine, I guess I can accept your terms." He smiled, "I've gotta get to the station, but I expect to see my two cookies waiting for me when I get home, be good today, okay son?"

"Yeah, yeah dad. Get to work, the criminal population of Beacon Hills is growing every moment you're away." John waved at him as he walked out the door, Stiles hollering after him, "and don't get burgers for lunch! I'll know!"

Stiles turned back to his ingredients, humming off key as he combined the ingredients according to his mom's handwriting. Once everything was together the mix had to sit in the fridge for half an hour. He set an alarm to remind him, and figured he could at least take this time to shower and get ready. Well, not _get ready_ , Derek Hale may be intimidatingly attractive (which is totally his type), but that's not why Stiles was going back to his house with cookies. It wasn't.

Showered and clean he stared into his closet. Jeez, he's never cared about what he wears before. Determined for everything to be normal, he grabbed a random jeans/graphic tee/flannel combo and threw it on, just in time for the alarm to go off. He ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where he set the oven to 350, and pulled the dough out of the refrigerator. He portioned them out onto a cookie sheet and popped them in the oven, setting yet another alarm, along with setting the oven timer for double measure.

It was only 12 minutes, so he figured he could at least try to attempt something with his hair. Again, not because of how attractive Hale was, he just didn't want to look like some dumb kid is all. He messed with it a bit, frowning at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, before sighing and going with his usual routine, a bit of gel to push it up and keep it out of his face. Sometimes he regretted letting it grow out from the buzz cut, even though pretty much everyone said it looked better like this. 

The shrill beeps of the oven timer interrupted his thoughts, quickly followed by his phone alarm. He turned that off first, then to the kitchen to turn off the oven. He peeked in at the cookies, lovely, they were the perfect light golden brown. He took the tray out carefully and set it on a hot pad on the counter. Oh they smelled so good, but he knew they would taste even better if he let them cool for a bit. He figured he might as well clean the kitchen while he waited, and like he thought they were cooled enough when he finished.

He couldn't resist grabbing one to eat right away, and ugh they were perfect. Soft and chewy, peanut buttery and chock-full of chocolate chips. He moaned as he ate, eyes fluttering closed. He'd missed these. Missed his mom, missed baking them with her and eating the dough as they baked, his mom smacking his hand lightly with a spatula when he'd reach into the bowl, but handing him chocolate chips with a wink right after. 

He set aside two for his dad in a tupperware container, another container for him with five or so in it, and boxed the rest into a bigger container to take to Derek. Well, it was time for him to go to the Hale house yet again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe from this chapter here, and the cookies really are amazing: https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/peanut-butter-oatmeal-chocolate-chip-cookies/


	3. All I’ve Ever Done is Hide

Back down the trailhead, over the scary looking steps and porch, and in front of Derek Hale’s front door one again. Apparently he felt like being kind, as he gave Stiles the chance to knock twice at least before immediately swinging the door open. 

They stood in silence looking at each other. Stiles figured he had to talk first, since he was the one to knock on the door.

“Hi, uh, I made some cookies and I wanted to bring some to you…” Stiles trailed off, he hadn’t really planned this part well. 

Derek opened his mouth to speak, his dark brows drawn together again. “Why.”

That’s it. There was no inflection. Stiles sputtered, “I- I uh cause I-” In truth, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a really good reason, not one that he could explain. And he worried if he tried to explain his ‘gut feeling’ he’d come off like a creep. Oh! That’s a good reason, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday and being weird.. and for the day before. I didn’t know anyone lived out here and so, yeah, I was weird… But anyways, these are really good cookies, they’re actually my mom’s recipe! Peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip, they’re addictive really…” Stiles trailed off as his eyes traveled down Derek’s body. He didn’t look like he’s ever eaten a cookie, or any dessert in his life. He looked like he’s drunk nothing but protein shakes since he was an infant. God even his abs seemed to have abs, at least from what Stiles could tell from where his dirty tank top clung to his chest and stomach. 

He wondered suddenly if this place even had running water. It looked pretty damaged from the outside, but it is - was - a massive house, inside parts maybe weren’t as damaged? If there’s no running water it’d be pretty hard to do laundry, or cook, or do anything really. Was Derek living like this? 

Stiles was pulled from his train of thought by a loud throat clear. Derek was looking down to see where Stiles eyes were drawn and oh shit it looked like he’d been staring at Derek’s crotch for at least 30 seconds. 

His face filled with red as Derek spoke again. “Who are you,” Derek said. Again, he said, didn’t ask, because apparently he didn’t know how to use question marks.

“Oh I’m Stiles, uh Stiles Stilinski. My dad’s the Sheriff, I think you’ve met him before.”

With a curt nod, Derek took the container of cookies out of Stiles’ hands easily. He walked backwards the two steps back into the house with nothing but a gruff thank you before the door was firmly closed.

Stiles barely held in a nervous giggle, and he stood staring at the door for a good few minutes before shaking his head and turning around to go back to his own house. 

  
  
  


“So did your friend enjoy the cookies?” Sheriff Stilinski asked later that evening as he and Stiles ate their dinner in the living room.

Stiles coughed as the water he had been drinking was inhaled. “Um,” Stiles cleared his throat, “I don’t know, he, uh, didn’t eat them in front of me.”

“Oh, so they weren’t made to woo some girl?” 

Stiles paused briefly to consider wooing Derek. Beyond everything else about why that would never happen he had to wonder if sweets could do anything to woo a guy like Derek. “No, not wooing any girls dad.”

“Were you… wooing some boy then?” John said slowly, quickly adding, “which of course I’d be supportive of as well.”

Stiles felt the back of his neck go hot. “I’m not wooing anyone dad, I, um, gave them to Derek Hale-”

“He’s too old for you Stiles,” John interrupted, “I know I said I support you but he has to be about 22 or 23 now. You’re still only 16.”

“Hey,” Stiles said defensively, “I’ll be 17 in three months!”

“Still, that’s too young for a guy old enough to buy alcohol. So you are interested in Hale then?” John asked.

“What? Wait, no! I was just trying to be nice cause he’s living in a terrible house and he seems all alone. I don’t want to date him, I was just saying that I shouldn’t be held back from dating someone just because of California’s antiquated consent laws. Everywhere else is like 16!” 

John had heard this from Stiles before, despite not having had the chance (Yet! Not having had the chance yet!) to lose his virginity, he was very vocal about the fact if (When!!) he did, it would be illegal unless he was 18. Not that that didn’t stop  _ everyone _ else from doing it. He had to hold in a laugh a bit, hearing it again. “Okay, so you gave him cookies to be nice. That’s… nice.”

“Well I happen to be a very nice person,” Stiles said, ignoring his dad’s expression.

“Do you plan on being… nice… to Hale again?” He asked.

“Would you stop saying it like it means something else?” 

John let out a real laugh at that, “Sorry son, really though, do you plan to be spending a lot of time with Hale?”

Stiles sighed, “I don’t know. He probably thinks I’m super annoying. Just, he’s gotta be lonely right? I know some people don’t treat him nicely, they say stuff about how weird he is. It’s like community service, being nice to him.”

John made a face at that, “Most people don’t take too kindly to being someone’s project.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not quite what I meant. I just… I feel like I should and need to, so I’m just going with my gut instinct here.”

In his head, John was priding himself on how his son turned out. Stiles was certainly not a perfect child, too curious for his own good, got into all sorts of trouble, but he really did have a good heart. 

“Okay, well just be smart, and don’t ask him to buy you alcohol.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at his dad fondly and dug back into his dinner. He didn’t know what he was going to do next, though. He thought back to his worry about running water and a way to cook and a plan started to develop in his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I'm so bad at ending chapters. Also to confirm what I wrote here, I learned that California does not have a Romeo and Juliet law, which means that if two 17 year olds had sex they technically could both get in trouble for statutory rape. Which is probably not useful for anyone who reads this to know, but it is interesting.


End file.
